Growing Up Playing Ping Pong

I Remember The Day As If It Was Yesterday. It Was A Fold Up Type Of Table That Had Wheels On The Bottom Side To Manuvere Wherever You Wanted To Play The Game.
My Father Must Have Been A Very Patient Man To Teach His Three Young Sons And Daughter How To Play Ping Pong.
I Would Say We Were Considered Very Good Players. I Played In PE Class At School And Nobody Could Beat Me. I Sure Do Miss The Game. It Has Been So Many Years Since I Played A Game.
One Thing I Appreciate The Most Was My Father Never Gave Me A Game. You Know How Some People Let Someone Win A Game To Give Them Confidence? Ofcourse Nobody Wanted To Lose All The Time. My Two Brothers And Myself Played All The Time And I Would Have To Admit We Were Pretty Much At The Same Level Of Play. So Ofcourse We Won Some And Lost Some. However When It Came To Dad He Told Me One Day That If I Were To Ever Beat Him I Would Earn It. My Father Was A Very Good Player. I Believe He Was Pretty Much The Best At The Firehouse.
I Knew Someday I Would Eventually Beat My Father At Ping Pong. I Was 22 Years Old Before I Beat Him At The Downtown Fire Station. I Knew It Wasn't A Gimmee, And That I Had Earned The Honor Of Finally Meeting His Challenge. I'm Glad He Raised Me With Those Principles. If You Want It Bad Enough You Must Work For It. Nobody Is Going To Hand You Anything Unless You Earn It. It May Have Taken Me 22 Years To Accomplish Beating Him On The Ping Pong Table. It Wasn't The Win That Matters The Most To Me. It Was The Fact That I Worked At It Long And Hard Enough To Earn It. The Day I Earned That Game, My Father Shook My Hand In Defeat. I Beat Him Maybe A Couple Times After That But It Wasn't As Important Than The Lesson I Learned From It.
It Never Was About Ping Pong Afterall.